imprévu
by kao-dreams
Summary: We are tied together by something that will last a million lifetimes. Gaara x Mei drabbles; various genres and ratings.
1. Tutor 1

**The drabbles in this collection may or may not have a storyline. They may or may not contain AU, crack, and mature themes. They may or may not be entirely romantic. They may or may not be very long, but no matter what, the main pairing will be GaaMei (or MeiGaa, whichever). And no matter what, I do not own _Naruto_.**

**This first one will be part of a series of tutor!Mei and student!Gaara drabbles that I'll most likely have ongoing.**

**TITLE:** Tutor 1

**PAIRING(S): **GaaMei

**GENRE:** General

**RATING: **K

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><p>For three years, she'd lived a peaceful life.<p>

Her family's enterprise was back on track. She was forgiven, renamed the heiress. They'd all died soon after—maybe they knew. She was left the entire estate, but she didn't worry much. There was a man who'd been by her side since she was born as a family friend who saved her from the duty of balancing finances and keeping up with what's popular in the toy industry. Not that she didn't keep an eye out for potential ideas.

Studying French had been her true dream from the day she first flipped to the wrong channel and sat in front of the television set, entranced by a three-hour French movie she didn't understand a word of. Their words rolled off the tongue so quick, sweet, and romantic. She wanted those words all to herself. Craving that fluency so badly, she took to learning French alone from books and movies until high school when she had the opportunity to take classes that she was far ahead of from the start.

Labeled as teacher's pet, she didn't really care. It was nice to talk to someone who spoke the language so naturally, so… _effortlessly._ It was happening right in front of her and she was so happy; everything else in her life became a blur.

That is, until her third year of college when she was offered to tutor. Her teachers were no strangers to the passion she had for French, so they asked her if she would like to teach. Well, not so much teach as guide other students along in French. And by students, they meant student. She wasn't sure of it at first, completely unconfident, so she took a while to think it over.

The decision was made final less than a day later. If it was just one student, she could handle it. She would transfer all her fiery determination into this one little person, make them crave the words just as much as her, make them _aimer_ French until they could no longer breath without hearing those fluid sentences just flow over each other like a waterfall. The mere thought of it made her sigh in bliss.

Unfortunately, that one student would prove to be a bigger challenge than anyone expected.

They were introduced in his family's garden, his older sister acting as a mediator. Underneath the arch which flowers crawled up stood a fragile-looking, expressionless boy with brick-red hair that was grown out and nearly covered his eyes entirely. Despite his unapproachable appearance, she stuck a hand out and smiled.

"I am Terumi Mei, your new French tutor."

He stared at her coldly. Not even coldly, she concluded after holding his gaze for a stretch of time. Those green eyes without pupils showed nothing. Absolutely nothing. She suppressed a shudder when he blinked those eyes and finally gave way to a handshake, so brief that she hardly had any time to understand his hands, though they had felt just as small and fragile as he looked. Pale, slender fingers that might've belonged to pianist. "Gaara," was all he said.

Then he turned his eyes on his sister who grinned approvingly. "Say please," she said in a sing-song.

Gaara made no visible change in expression, but his sister sighed. "Fine. Go."

He turned and left without a backwards glance. Mei watched him go in surprise. "Um, are we not supposed to…?" she started uncertainly, raising her eyebrows in question at his sister.

"He's… shy. Maybe tomorrow."

Mei nodded numbly, unable to forget his eyes.


	2. Tutor 2

**I'm not funny, so the humor genre usually means it's just light-hearted. :P If anything is in (these), that means it's minor or hinted at.**

**TITLE:** Tutor 2

**GENRE:** Romance, (Humor)

**RATING:** K+

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><p>"Your fly's undone," she said flatly, leaning her cheek on her hand. It was propped up on the desk with her elbow. She watched Gaara indifferently sit up and examine the situation.<p>

"So it is," he said, making no move to zip it up. He laid back on his bed once more, irritating Mei further.

"If you don't get your ass over here right now and _learn_, I'll kill you," she informed him with a pleasant smile that he didn't see because all he did was lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling. Nothing interesting was even up there, not stars from his childhood or anything like that. In fact, no signs of any childhood were in this practically empty room.

"That would be counter-productive."

"Why are you being such a smart-ass today?" Mei grumbled, shifting in the spinning chair he'd gotten for her. Apparently, he'd never had any chairs for the desk until today, when he asked to have their lesson in his room.

"I was born a smart-ass," Gaara retorted.

"You didn't say a word at first."

"I'm shy."

Mei snorted. "That's a bullshit excuse your sister made up. Would you zip your fly already?" she asked with an edge of annoyance to her voice, truly bothered.

"No," he answered evenly.

"Zip it up or I'll do it for you," she snarled, managing to smile even through that. This time, Gaara peeked at her, raising an eyebrow slightly, challenging her.

Mei clenched her jaw and stood up, walked the short distance to the bed, and put a firm hand on Gaara's thigh. She swore that his eyes widened just the tiniest bit as she reached for the zipper, jerking it upwards and swearing when it got caught. Mei gripped his thigh harder to keep his pants in placed and pulled the zipper up with a little more force, succeeding in both fixing the problem and earning a sharp intake of breath from the normally stoic boy.

Satisfied, Mei stalked back to her chair and spun so that her back was to him. "_Now_ will you get your ass over here and learn?" she repeated, her tone speaking the unspoken threat.

Gaara reluctantly shuffled over and moved his stool a little further from the woman before sitting down.


	3. Tutor 3

**TITLE:** Tutor 3

**GENRE: **General, (Humor)

**RATING:** K

* * *

><p>In the beginning, everything was normal, or as normal as it usually was with Gaara. He didn't express himself much in words or expressions. Mei soon became accustomed to his blank stares and hidden insults to her character, but those things didn't bother her as much as the fact that he was taking French so lightly and wasn't learning a thing besides what little he knew when they began. Three weeks passed, two sessions every week. Six times she'd seen him and he was still on Workbook 1, Section 1.<p>

Mei slammed the book closed in frustration, making herself jump. She'd closed Gaara's hand in the book. He looked up at her, not even blinking, and removed his hand, leaving the pencil inside to keep the page. "I-I'm sorry," she stuttered, turning away from him. "I just—I'm a terrible teacher. I'm so sorry you got stuck with me."

Biting her lip, she expected nothing from him over anything, maybe another unpleasant comment about how her smiles gave him goose bumps (which she took in the worst way) or about how her tied-up hair reminded him of a spool of yarn (which was in no way flattering or accurate). She was embarrassed to say so much in front of him, a boy, who could care less what a woman who was only a little older than his sister felt.

And for a while, she did get nothing. He didn't speak or move for so long that she was about to check that he was still there and breathing. But then he did talk. "Terumi-sensei, the first day I met you, I said my name was Gaara," he reminded her in a low voice. The way his words travelled over her, husky and more mature than his age might've indicated, it was lovely. "You have yet to call me by that name."

Jolted by surprise, Mei suddenly turned around. The boy was separated from her by a table once again but she'd never seen his eyes so clearly before. Then she realized the markings on the left side of his forehead. "You got a haircut," she realized quietly.

He ignored it. "What is my name?"

Mei's voice failed her for a moment. She'd never heard him talk so much at one time, only fragmented responses when absolutely necessary, and almost always in clumsy French. In Japanese, his voice had a certain tone that made her want to hear more. More than she'd ever wanted to hear even French. This revelation shocked her, causing her to whisper the name, "Gaara."

A flash of emotion crossed his face. It was confidence and satisfaction. Mei felt a little manipulated into going at his pace and abruptly broke their eye contact, flipping the book back to the page they'd been on.

"Now then—"

"Why bother?" Gaara interrupted her, which he'd grown a habit of doing. It infuriated her that he thought whatever short little blurb he wanted to get out was more important than her teaching. Her eyes accurately reflected this when she glared up at him from behind her bangs. Mei nearly swept her hair out of her right eye just so he could feel the full force of her glower. This only seemed to make him even more confident, though it didn't show on his face, just in his tone and the way he held himself a little taller.

"Thinking yourself a failure as a teacher," he went on, "would make you want to give up, correct?"

"I'm determined," she informed him, matching his confidence with refined arrogance. "French is a beautiful language. If I fail to show you that, then my teachings mean nothing. That would be my true failure. And I won't give up until I reach this goal."

Gaara took this in, a very small smile touching his features. Not his lips, but his eyes. They softened the slightest bit and he leaned back onto the couch. "Next time, we should do this somewhere else," he said, his attention now on his surroundings. "I'm tired of all this _brown_."

"Your clothes are brown," Mei pointed out with a snort.

"…so they are," he muttered, looking down at himself as if just realizing.


	4. Tutor 4

**Again, I'm not funny, so don't expect much from the humor genre.**

**TITLE: **Tutor 4

**PAIRING(S):** GaaMei, (TsuJirai)

**GENRE:** Romance, (Humor)

**RATING:** K+ (for drinking)

* * *

><p>The Sabaku siblings had apparently taken a vacation to another country for a couple months, leaving Mei feeling a bit lost in her weekly routine. Instead of spending two hours with Gaara twice a week, she had gaps to fill which she tried to fill, at first, with friends. She found herself missing his eyes, no matter how detached they were. Green seemed to stand out to Mei wherever she went, especially towards the end of the first month when even the grass started to glint in the sunlight brighter than before.<p>

She felt ridiculous for getting attached. It was clear enough that Gaara wasn't particularly fond of her, his latest insults including an array of things to call the brown belt she wore across her waist. He had the _nerve_ to call it a _fanny pack_ when it was most certainly _not_, but it had prompted her to stop wearing it in his absence. If he ever saw her giving in, he'd gain even more confidence and she hated to see that in his usually blank eyes.

Mei had even started leaving her hair down, without the top-knot. The dark blue band she used to tie it up was now around her wrist, never leaving in case she ran into someone who would rat her out to Gaara and he would give her a look that meant he had won. And he hadn't won a single thing, besides occupying Mei's thoughts.

She felt even more foolish because he was five years younger, practically young enough to be her baby brother. There was even more difference between the two of them than him and Temari, and she really _was_ his sister. Mei sighed, gaining the attention of the friend who had dragged her out of the house that day.

"Hey, hey, hey, there is _no_ sighing when you're drinking, Mei-chan!" Tsunade's demanding presence burst through her lonely thoughts, bringing Mei back to her current situation. The buxom blonde sitting next to her at the bar was Senju Tsunade, a dear friend who was also a heavy drinker at the young age of twenty-six. She was in a nearby college studying medicine, a far cry from Mei's French, but they'd ended up friends anyway.

Tsunade hit her on the back playfully, not knowing her own strength and nearly sending Mei flying out of her seat. "Drink, drink!" the blonde pressed, holding a shot glass full of a clear liquid in front of the younger woman.

Eyeing it for a moment, Mei took what she assumed to be vodka and downed it in one quick gulp, earning and an enthusiastic cheer from Tsunade.

"Atta girl!" she praised, calling for the bartender to bring more.

"I have school tomorrow," Mei said to try and make amends for what she'd just consumed. She never had a very high tolerance for alcohol and knew that it would be kicking in within the next ten minute, whether she drank more or not.

"So do we," said a deep voice in her left ear. The younger woman flinched away, recognizing the white-haired man immediately. His name was Jiraiya, a drinking partner of Tsunade who she jumped out of her seat to embrace. "I can't believe you started without me!"

"We were tired of waiting," huffed Tsunade, her cheeks tinged pink from the liquids she was downing like a dehydrated horse. Mei smiled a little, thinking that if Tsunade heard that analogy, she'd surely smack Mei without even thinking twice. The blonde shot her a curious look, stopped short from asking when the auburn-haired woman yelped, leaping out of her seat.

Mei turned back around calmly, smiling sweetly at Jiraiya. "If you grab my ass one more time, I'll kill you."

The older man laughed, taking her spot and earning a slap on the arm from Tsunade. "The hell'd you do tha' for!" the blonde slurred. "Now I'm gon' lose my Mei-chaaan."

Mei wondered when she'd drank that much already. Sending a wary glare in Jiraiya's direction, she reached towards her drink at the table, quickly throwing it to the back of her throat so she wouldn't have to taste the bitter alcohol. She did again with two more that were sitting there, probably meant for Tsunade but Mei wasn't going to stay.

Tsunade's eyes widened hopefully, but she shook her head. "That's all for me," Mei said with a final grin and an added wink towards Jiraiya. "Treat her right, old man."

"Old man my ass," he snorted, just loudly enough for Mei to hear before the door to the bar shut behind her. She could also hear Tsunade's drunken whining but couldn't make out the words.

Vodka was not something Mei usually drank, preferring traditional Japanese drinks like sake, and it took effect much quicker and stronger than she'd expected. The street tilted in a strange, warped way and her body found a wall very quickly. She didn't move until everything was done spinning so much and then she pushed herself off it, seeing everything in a curved, fish-eye view. It took a lot of concentration to walk straight long enough to get to the next support and even longer to get home.

Of course, when she thought she'd reached her apartment, the street sign told her otherwise. Mei had wandered in the complete opposite direction. She whimpered pathetically, bunching her long, auburn hair into her hand and pulling it over her shoulder. It laid there like a blanket, keeping the fall chill away for the most part. Summer was only just ending so her favorite blue dress didn't leave her too exposed to the cold.

All thoughts disappeared from her mind in one instant, leaving only the fog that the alcohol caused, dulling her senses. Despite that, the eyes that were on the other side of the street, waiting to cross, were green with no pupils—there was no mistaking it. When the eyes started to cross, identifying the lack of cars appropriately, everything else came into view. Brick-red spiky hair, a little longer once again to cover the markings on his head that she never really saw. An unapproachable man walked towards her.

"Boy," she corrected herself in a slow, soft whisper.

Gaara was in front of her now, watching his tutor leaning drunkenly against a street sign with mild interest, something she'd never seen from him. A little embarrassed, Mei spun around the pole and hugged it, hiding her face. Nothing happened for a couple seconds longer, and then something cold gripped her hand, removing it from the pole. The feeling shocked Mei, drawing a gasp from the woman as she unlatched herself from the pole to face the coldness.

But it was nothing more than Gaara's slender, pale fingers, which she examined with amazement. They were holding her hand away from him, up a little. It felt like that limp hand in his grip wasn't hers, a giggle bubbling up at this thought. She realized that Gaara was staring at her and not their hands, so she faced him fearlessly.

"What?" Mei demanded, a little louder than she'd meant to say.

"You're drunk," he noted, lowering her hand.

She nodded miserably, pointing with a jelly-like arm to the street sign.

"You're lost," Gaara interpreted.

She nodded again, letting her arm flop back down. Mei's mouth hung open for a while before words came out. "You… here, why?" was all she managed to get out.

Gaara gazed past her, to the market she'd passed, and she was about to tell him to do whatever it was he'd set out to do, but then he looked back down at her. In heels, she actually amounted to a greater height than Gaara. Her tiredness caused her to slump, putting her at eye-level. She couldn't escape his green eyes that had been everywhere for the past two months or so. How long was he really gone.

"Why are you drunk?" he finally asked.

Her words didn't come, so she whimpered and shook her head.

A barely noticeable sigh left Gaara's lips. She blamed the alcohol for her hallucination, cursing it even more when Gaara said, "I'll take you home." Mei continued shaking her head until he grabbed it between his hands. She gasped.

"What is your address?"

Mei rattled it off without really thinking about it, feeling as if she'd just slipped into a dream, especially when Gaara's colder hand gripped her again and yanked her along behind the boy. She followed, whether she wanted to or not because of his strong grip. For such delicate fingers, she hadn't expected any force to come out of them. By the time they were at her door, Mei still hadn't sobered enough to get her keys.

"They're in my _fanny pack_," she grumbled at the stairs of her two-story building.

"…you're not wearing it."

"Because you told me it was ugly!" Mei snapped unhappily.

"I said no such thing," Gaara defended, his voice even. She cursed him for being so composed all the time even though he was so much younger. How he managed to get the door open, Mei was too drunk to recall, but he led her inside. The first floor consisted of a staircase and a small closet to the right. Mei fell over on her crawl up the stairs, almost crying at her failure.

Without saying anything, Gaara tore the shoes off her feet, breaking the straps in the process and flinging them into the closet. Mei stared, not sure how to react until his arms were under her, lifting Mei off the stairs. She shrieked for a very short moment, stopping when she caught Gaara's eyes. They were on her the entire time, showing nothing, absolutely nothing.

She wasn't sure how they ended up in her room. She hadn't said a word of direction. The boy made to set her down, stumbling in a way that was surprisingly ungraceful and causing him to land with his hands on either side of Mei's limp, sleeping form. He watched her chest rise and fall gently, making sure that she really was asleep before pushing up off the bed.

Gaara stayed there for a bit longer, wondering if he shoulder put a blanket over her, but decided against it. He didn't want to snoop around. Why had he felt the need to go and get ginger ale so badly that night when there was plenty of other drinks in the house but no, right then, he really wanted ginger ale? Maybe he so desperately craved ginger ale because some part of him knew it would lead him straight to Mei, the smiling woman who he, who never felt anything, had actually _missed_.

He shook his head, thinking how stupid she was for taking her hair down and removing her belt, just because he commented on them. Did she even smile at him? Her sleeping face was serene, leaving him feeling a little better that she was dreaming well as he left.


	5. Tutor 5

**TITLE: **Tutor 5

**GENRE: **General, (Fluff), (Humor)

**RATING:** K

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><p>Their second meeting was in the house, about three miles away from her university's housing complexes where the apartments stopped and the houses began. It was an adobe fashioned with an interior that screamed "wealth" which she almost anticipated with the standoffish way Gaara had acted before, but it amazed her nonetheless. Her family's success in the toy business had never amounted to much luxury, though it did allow for a simple life she'd always been thankful for.<p>

Mei waited on a beige couch in what she supposed was the living room while Temari fetched her youngest brother. The blonde woman who was roughly twenty years old had explained that their mother passed away while birthing Gaara as well as their father a few years earlier due to a heart condition. She had a younger brother, Kankuro, who was older than Gaara and nearly over his rebellious phase, just not quite, but that was why he was never home and Mei wouldn't meet him for a while unless she really tried to.

Temari's openness was refreshing, to say the least. In a world where people kept secrets and hid behind masks, Mei found it easy to talk to her, appreciative of the fact that there were genuine people left on Earth besides herself. Lies had always been a sore point for Mei, so she made a point to be honest and cheerful.

"…and I hope to _God_ you don't take after your brother!" The voice of Temari echoed after Gaara as he grudgingly came down the steps, clearly not pleased with his situation, and Mei had to fight a laugh at the fact that he still got scolded by his older sister at this age. His head was down until he reached the bottom stair where he looked up, bangs falling in his eyes that he didn't bother to move away.

Despite feeling unwanted, Mei stood up from the couch and forced her mouth to curl upwards. "Good morning, Sabaku-san! How are you?" she asked politely.

Gaara stared.

"I am well, too, thanks for asking," Mei said with a hint of annoyance that he didn't seem to catch. Gaara had been called shy by his sister who probably knew him better than anyone, but this was beyond that. He was being plain rude. She kept the smile going. "Please, have a seat."

At this order, Gaara finally moved and seated himself diagonal from her on an entirely separate couch even though there was still room for several more people on her couch. Mei's eyebrow twitched, the smile slipping from her face.

"You can sit next to me, Sabaku-san," she prompted gently. "I won't bite. Much."

Gaara's eyes were fixed on the vase in the middle of the coffee table that was between them until that comment. He lifted those green orbs to Mei's face and subtly raised an eyebrow which she took as a little improvement on his attitude.

"That was a joke," she clarified, patting the space next to her with her hand. "Please, come sit. It will be difficult to teach you when you're sitting over the—"

"My eyesight is 20/20," Gaara interjected, blinking once calmly. "I can see from here."

Mei opened her mouth to protest and closed it, thinking twice before going off on her one and only student. She took a breath to clear her head and then plastered her smile back on.

"Okay, then, let us begin." Mei reached down into the bag near her feet and pulled out two workbooks, flopping them both on the table. As her hand rummaged through the bag a second time for a pencil, Gaara suddenly spoke again.

"You smile too much."

Lifting her head, Mei looked at the boy who had hidden behind his hair, facing the ground instead of her. She pursed her lips together to hold back a laugh. This whole time, she'd had a stupid grin on her face, trying to make him feel at ease with her, comfortable enough to learn without seemingly hating every moment, and yet he had the balls to say that she was smiling too much when _it was all for him_.

And to spite him, Mei smiled the rest of the lesson, not even stopping when her cheeks started to hurt.

* * *

><p>On their eighteenth meeting, Gaara said the same thing.<p>

"You smile too much."

Mei set her pencil down slowly and looked sidelong at the boy who was working on the page she'd assigned, lying down on his bed. His head was up, watching her, and she wondered how long he'd been staring at her with those intense green eyes. She turned herself around completely in the spinning chair at his desk and heaved a sigh. "I wasn't even smiling, Gaara," she commented, too tired to deal with his antics today.

He lifted an eyebrow ever so slightly, as if to say, "Exactly," but no words came from his mouth. They didn't move at all, but she heard him clearly.

A small smirk tugged at Mei's lips. Fighting it only made it worse so she ducked her head, grinning for absolutely no reason. When she looked up again, Gaara had gone back to working and she shook her head, still smiling. "Thank you," she said, and he nodded once in acknowledgement.


	6. Rivalry

**Okay, so someone asked me for one where there's a love triangle between Gaara, Mei, and Kankuro, and I made the latter a bit vulgar.**

**TITLE:** Rivalry

**GENRE:** Romance, (Drama)

**RATING:** T

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><p>The first thing I thought when I saw her was just plain <em>damn.<em>A chick with that hot a body, that pretty a face, and she's the fucking Godaime Mizukage.

It should be illegal, was my next thought. A girl – woman, really – like her going into battle would surely end in scars that might ruin that pretty face or those luscious curves. I used to image the two of us, in bed, back when I knew nothing about her besides how she looked and how gorgeous she must be under those clothes, no matter how many scars.

I didn't even know her real name. In my dreams, she was always Mizukage-sama, and yet always submitting to me.

These days, she's with Gaara, and I wonder who tops in that bedroom. No matter how much I think about it, I can't imagine it, and it makes me feel left out. Gaara who threatens to kill anyone just to make sure he's still alive or Mei – her name is Terumi Mei – who would _never_ give in to a man. Or at least, not that she'd admit to.

Another thing is how much older she is – why not me, then, if she's into younger men? Why not lessen the gap by a year and a half? I could make her feel better, couldn't I?

No, Gaara is the Kazekage. He holds the power, not me. I'm left to my dreams. Literally left in the dust, since we're in Suna.

I'm not being shallow, for fuck's sake. Temari sees the way I look at Mei, tells me I should be ashamed of myself for ogling at my brother's woman. (How did that bastard even _get_ a girl like her? He goes to the Summit of the Five Kage one day and next thing you know, he's got a woman. _The Mizukage_, no less!)

She's incredible, that woman. I got courage in the form of sake and headed out to mess with Gaara for some stupid, drunken reason, and I met her just outside. Naturally, I hit on her, and she just smiled and said she'd kill me. It's not a surprise the two of them get along so well, now that I think about it.

But anyway, she walked me home. She wished me goodnight and beat my ass up when I planted a wet one on her. It was just her cheek! Still, I'm glad she never told Gaara or I might've been more dead and less sore-but-alive. And that's why it's not just the looks. It's what's underneath.

God, that woman. I've never wanted anyone like I want Mei.

I hope Gaara knows what he's fucking got, and he better treat it right – or I'll steal it all right out from under him.


	7. Handle Myself

**Separate from the Tutor drabbles.**

**TITLE:** Handle Myself

**GENRE:** Drama, Romance, (Humor)

**RATING:** T

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><p>Mei Terumi had been in gangs since the day her memory began, twenty years ago. Her family was dead by then—the only thing she knew was the art of getting by with whatever she had. Whether it be stealing, breaking and entering, or killing to get what she wanted, Mei had a strong will and an even stronger stomach.<p>

She was known for her flaming knives that never missed. Working as a hit man—hit woman—was a chance she didn't expect to come her way. After taking down two of the bodyguards of the politician known affectionately as the Kazekage, just because they were in her way at a convenience store, he took great interest in her.

"Why is no one running to stop you?" he asked as she stepped over one body uncaringly. There were two others in the store—the cashier and someone who mopped the floors. Mei turned around to eye the employee for a brief moment before returning the Kazekage's gaze.

"Why did you just stand there?" she shot back with a sweet smile. "Why are you not calling the police right now?"

He chuckled, calmly shoving his hands into his suit pockets. "You intrigue me."

"This town is under my control," she told him, jerking her chin towards the store employees and holding her charming smile in place. To them, it was probably menacing, and they carefully ducked their heads. "They know me, and they're afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid," the Kazekage said smoothly.

Mei narrowed her eyes at him, the smile turning into an arrogant smirk. In her hand, she turned a knife over, then flipped it up in the air, catching it sideways and closing one eye. She held her arm out, imaging that the knife was pressed against his throat. The Kazekage stood a little more upright, letting Mei know that she'd effectively intimidated him, so she softened her smile and lowered the knife, slipping it into her belt.

"Don't lie to me, sir," she told him, spinning around to grab the drink she'd come to the store for. Mei examined the label for a moment before nodding to herself and heading towards the door.

"You're not paying for that?"

Halting, Mei let out a quiet giggle. "What's with you?" she demanded, facing him with her arms crossed and shifting her weight onto her right leg. "You've seen what I can do. Run away screaming already. This is boring."

"Yes, I've seen what you can do," he acknowledge with a nod, stepping over his comrade just as she had and walking a little closer to her. The Kazekage hesitantly looked over at the two employees who pretended they were listening. He started for the door, motioning for Mei to follow, and she rolled her eyes. She didn't go after him because she cared what he had to say; she was just going the same way.

"That's exactly why I want you to come with me," the Kazekage said under his breath once the door shut behind them. Mei simply raised an eyebrow in question, unscrewing her Sprite and taking a gulp. "An assassination job."

The laugh the burst from Mei surprised even her and she choked on her drink. "What?" she gasped, coughing the liquids from her windpipe. "I'm not that sort of person, Kazekage, sir. I don't do clean kills, I outright murder for no reason at all."

"I've made six attempts on this person's life already. None have succeeded with _clean_ methods. You'll be perfect for this job. Now get in." The Kazekage had pressed a button that lifted the doors of a sleek black sports car. She stared at it, shaking her head in awe, but what did she have to lose? Mei got in the car.

* * *

><p>She was to pose as a maid in order to enter his room. This was the only person the target named Gaara allowed into his room. Mei had opposed the costume—French maid, what bullshit—but the Kazekage had insisted that it was essential to her mission. That, and it was quite becoming of her. Mei hadn't appreciated this comment and smiled cheerfully as she threatened to kill him once she was finished with the target.<p>

The room was on the third floor of their luxurious home. It was expected, as the Kazekage clearly flaunted his wealth by the way he dressed and drove. Mei took the elevator up with a cart of food and drinks. She adjusted her uniform one last time before taking a breath and stepping out of the elevator. Carting squeaky slightly, Mei took the chance to lift the skirt a little to check that her knives were still tied to her thigh. The shuffling of her dress made too much noise.

Apart from the other rooms, Gaara's door was colored deep red, contrasting with the white cleanliness of the rest of the house. She supposed that it would match the blood she would spill in that room. On one hand, she wondered why he would house a guest that he wanted dead, but then politics had never made much sense to her. Mei rapped her knuckles on the door three times, earning a speedy response that nearly made her jump.

Out of the doorway peeked a head with brick-red hair, almost the same color as the door, and he hid behind the door when he opened it further. Mei's heart had never pounded like this when she was about to kill someone. Of course, she'd also never worn a French maid outfit to kill someone. That must be it.

Gaara shut the red door once she'd wheeled the cart in all the way and only then did Mei turned around.

Jade green eyes without pupils met her gaze no more than a couple inches from her face. Mei held in a gasp of shock, averting her own light green eyes as she plastered a fake, hopefully maid-like smile on her face.

"I've brought your dinner," Mei explained with a sweet tone that she thought a maid would use. Trying to seem effortless, she looked up to the right, noticing markings on his forehead that, oddly enough, read "love," and was about to conversationally ask about it when Gaara spoke.

"You are not a maid," he said, not an ounce of emotion in his voice.

Thinking quickly, the hand that brushed her knives swiftly pulled one out and flicked the flint on its blade with her diamond nail, causing its gasoline-slicked blade to light up with fire. She lunged forward, aiming for his stomach. Gaara unexpectedly and fearlessly gripped the blade with a lightning-quick motion. His hand shook for a second before he yanked it from her grip, tossing it aside just in time to catch another knife that came at his throat from the other direction.

Frustrated, Mei pulled her last knife and held it, just as she held his stare with a furious glower.

"It's a pity that I have to kill you," she said, calming herself enough to lose the glare and allow a soft smile to grace her features. She was confident. There was no way he could ruin this for her and there was no reason for her to get worked up or frustrated.

"You're so good-looking, too," Mei added, practically purring.

"My father sent you, didn't he?" Gaara asked evenly.

Her eyes widened the slightest bit, the hand that clenched the knife near his throat loosening. Gaara pushed her hand down roughly enough that her grip no longer held the knife and it clattered to the ground. Mei had never been informed of her target's relation to the Kazekage—she'd only assumed that he was some other politician sort. But now, seeing his face clearly, she could tell that he was young, and he was the son of the man who'd hired her.

Mei clenched her teeth together hard, trying not to give in to emotion. Her diamond thumbnail flicked across the final knife and she raised it, forcing her tremors to go away. Gaara's darker green eyes watched her face, not the knife, as if he was sure she wouldn't go through with it.

And she didn't.

Dropping the knife, Mei brought her foot down on it to put out the flame. He just blinked as if nothing was unusual about this situation. The only thing that told her of his previous fright was the way he sagged a little when his back touched the door. Gaara continued to say nothing, driving Mei to the point where the tension was unbearable and she couldn't take the silence.

"I'm not cut out to be an assassin," she told him angrily, her eyebrows furrowing together. She didn't know what followed this, how she was supposed to face the person she had just tried to kill and then the person who'd hired her.

"Most of the time, I am the one bringing the dead bodies back to my father," Gaara informed her emotionlessly, bending down to pick up one of her knives. Mei's throat constricted in fear, something she had been a stranger to for the last two decades of her life. It was those eyes that held outright emptiness, the cold voice that talked as if everything horrible was matter-of-fact and couldn't be changed, and over everything else, the loneliness.

He brought himself directly in front of her, pushing Mei back with pure intimidation until her lower back was touching the cart. Gaara held the knife against her cheek, still warm from the flames that had only just gone out. Momentarily, he looked at the knife, and then back at her.

"That was a nice trick, though," he complimented. It didn't feel very genuine, more like something he noticed about her that was different from the other killers. She shut her eyes, feeling her own knife be dragged along her jaw, then down her neck, and resting over her heart. That precision wasn't one of someone who didn't know how to fight. He put pressure on the knife, making her clench her teeth harder, so hard until it gave her a headache, but even as her skin was punctured, she didn't let out a single sound.

The pressure stopped.

Mei's eyes snapped open, self-preservation instincts kicking in as she kneed him in the groin, causing him to fall back just enough for her to smack the knife from his hand. In his moment of weakness, she dropped down and ran her leg underneath his.

Gaara hit the ground hard, exhaling sharply. He glared at her, striking her across the ribs with a well-placed kick. The air left Mei's lungs in a gasp, but even more of a shock was Gaara firmly holding one of her shoulders to the ground, leaving him enough room and time to straddle her. His other hand gripped her free shoulder, locking her down.

Though he was younger, she could feel his manly strength. It was the sort of thing that all men possessed, whether they were muscular or not. Mei struggled against his hold, trying to buck him off, but Gaara's face showed no signs of him giving up or even being fazed. His grip never loosened and she felt ridiculous in this position. Eventually, Mei was the one who gave up, breathing hard and glowering up at Gaara's impassive face.

God, that pissed her off.

"You win," she said, teeth bared in a grin. Mei laughed humorlessly, going limp. "Now you're gonna take my dead body to your father, huh?"

"You stopped when I said he was my father," he said. "You didn't know who you were killing."

Mei shrugged in an attempt to steer the conversation away from her fatal mistake. "So?"

"You stopped trying after that," Gaara went on. She was confused about what he was getting at and his expression left no room for guessing. He showed only subtle signs of tiredness and relief in the way his eyelids had lowered slightly, his shoulders drooping a little. Mei bit her lip. "I was not planning on killing you, especially with your own weapon. That would be humiliating."

His weight came off her. Gaara stood up, smoothing his clothes out as Mei scuttled backwards to a corner of his room. Even though he seemed to have ended his attack, her heart wouldn't stop pounding. The red-haired boy's eyes flickered over her and without returning back to her face, he started to gather the three knives, disposing of them in his trash can. After examining his cut palm, he turned back to Mei.

"…what now?" she wondered aloud, her voice hoarse.

Holding a hand to her chest, Mei took a minute to realize what Gaara meant by sweeping his hand towards his bed. At first she was too bewildered to make a move, and then she slowly got up, walking cautiously over to the bed and sitting at the very edge. Mei cast him a suspicious look, but Gaara shook his head.

"Shouldn't I be the one scared?"

"I'm shaken up, okay?" Mei snapped, turning her body towards him. The boy sat on the corner of the bed, back leaning up against a red wall that matched the red of his door, covers, and curtains. "That man ordered me to kill his _son_."

Gaara watched her curiously. "That never mattered to anyone else." He paused in thought. "They were not women, however."

"If you hold men above women one more time, I'll kill you," she informed him with a smile.

He raised an eyebrow slightly. "No, you won't."

"Don't underestimate me," Mei sniffed, locking her hands together in a nervous sort of way. She shook her head after a couple moments. "No, I didn't mean that. You… I just… I've killed so many people without thinking twice. But you, you've been almost killed so many times without anyone thinking twice."

"That should not matter to someone like you."

"Like me?" she scoffed. "I'm a street gang type of girl. I don't kill for money. I kill to survive. Or… if I'm pissed."

"Are you?"

"I'm worried for you." The words slipped from her mouth before she could realize what she was saying, and Mei's eyes got bigger when she heard her own statement. She quickly glanced at Gaara who, amazingly, showed a little bit of surprise himself. It disappeared instantly.

"I can take care of myself," Gaara told her in a harsher tone than he'd used so far. He was abruptly standing, rounding the bed to grab Mei's chin roughly and dragging her into a standing position. Mei looked into his dark eyes—not dark in color, but in expression. She'd made him angry by insulting his ability to be self-reliant.

"I can take care of _you_," he spat, wrenching her forward for a kiss that was so hard it bruised her lips. Mei fought at first, trying to remove his hand from holding her in place, but the harder she fought, the rougher he was, so she gave up. Only then did the kiss lighten into something with more feeling, not just fury and vengeance. His pent-up emotions were pouring into her with this one, bittersweet kiss. Gaara pulled away once to breathe, and then he covering her mouth with his again, sucking on her bottom lip and eliciting an unexpected moan from the auburn-haired woman.

The sound made both of them freeze. Gaara parted from her, breathing a little faster from the boldness of his actions.

"H-How old are you?" Mei questioned softly, her voice shaking a little.

"Eighteen," Gaara answered, his voice calm and collected. He showed no other signs of feeling flustered as she did, annoying Mei. She narrowed her eyes.

"I was ten by the time you were born."

"Does that matter?" he retorted, stepping forward and reaching an arm around to grab the hair at the back of her head. Mei cringed, her eyes watering a little. This made Gaara smirk, confidence beyond his years flooding his expression, the first unsheltered emotion she'd seen from him yet. He pressed another bruising kiss on Mei, and this time she didn't fight at all.

Gaara pulled away, apparently satisfied by the unhappy look on Mei's face. Where had a boy his age learned to kiss like that? She had just tried to kill him, and yet she was inexplicably drawn to him in a million ways.

"I have proven that I can take care of myself by easily dominating a supposedly ruthless killer," murmured Gaara, leaning in close to her ear. Goose bumps rose on her skin. His voice had sent a shiver down her spine, leaving her wanting more, and she tilted her head down to latch onto his neck with her teeth. He sucked in a sharp breath.

"What are you—?"

She let go for a quick second, making sure that her hold was strong, and whispered, "My name is Mei. And I refuse to be dominated by a _man_." With that, she whipped around with such speed that the momentum threw Gaara onto the bed.

A knock at the door caused both of their hearts to leap in fear.

"Gaara?" the Kazekage's voice called. "I'm coming in!"

Mei's quick reflexes swiftly placed herself in the space behind the door just a millisecond before it opened.

"Oh," the older man noted with clear disappointment, and they both knew why. He covered it up by saying, "I can't believe you're sleeping at this time of day. Get working on your French. Your teacher said you suck at it."

"I am sure she did not say it so delicately," Gaara responded, almost making Mei laugh with the sarcasm that didn't work quite as well with his monotone. She held a hand tightly over her mouth until the door slammed closed and the Kazekage stormed away, probably too speechless from his son's response to continue the argument as well as furious that he was not dead.

The two of them met each other's gaze and after a minute, Mei sighed.

"It's probably best that I leave for today," she admitted grudgingly.

"Another day," Gaara started, searching for the next words, "…we will continue this?"

"Sure, as long as you're not dead by then."

"I can handle myself."

Mei chuckled. "I know."


	8. Solitary Darkness

**I wasn't planning on adding this one, but since I already had it written and The Withered asked for some angst, it worked out. :) Not completely angst, but it sort of is.**

**TITLE:** Solitary Darkness

**GENRE:** Drama, Angst, (Romance)

**RATING:** K+

* * *

><p>I mark the days on my forehead so I can never see how long I've been there unless I see a mirror. The next time I see one will be when I'm released. So I'll only go completely insane once I'm already out, and that's not so bad.<p>

A little bit of panic creeps up on me when my forehead doesn't have enough room and I start tallying down my temples. I get a little nervous when I reach the corners of my eyes and downright scared when my cheeks filled up with marks. Terror starts up in the back of my head when I have to start tallying the days down to my jaw, and I figure that I can't count under my chin very well so next, I start down my neck.

Bile rises at the back of my throat when I start seeing the marks run down my chest, flow over my shoulders, and crawl down my skin. They look hideous, reminders of the months of imprisonment that I'm still suffering through now and I mark the day.

I feel helpless, so terrifyingly powerless, that it is all I can do not to curl into a ball and rock back and forth like a child. Upon imprisonment, they sealed my chakra. I have nothing but my hands and feet which did nothing against the seals that shut me into this gloomy dungeon.

When they let me out, I stumble into the light, squeezing my eyes closed against the brightness. I don't know how long I've been down there, but it feels like a decade since I saw the sun. In the desert, it's the worst, and the heat is harsh on the back of my neck as they usher me quickly. A new pair of hands are on me, a sweet, familiar voice whispering that it would be okay, that I'm safe now.

We enter a cool building and I finally feel the light dissipate enough that I can crack my eyes open, and the first thing I see is light green hovering before me. Then blue shoots towards me and I'm pulled into a tight embrace I don't even want to escape.

Her smell is upon me, and my entire body which has been stiff and uncooperative until now relaxes. I can only hoarsely get the name out. "Mizukage-sama?"

"Gaara," she breathes into my shoulder, hers shaking.

I wonder how long it really has been. I ask to be escorted to the restroom and Kankuro is the one to lead me there. He tries to warn me that I look like hell, but I give a weak smile and say, "I know." Inside, I feel the blood drain from my face. The black tallies were like a million bugs skittering around my face all the way to my chest. I couldn't breathe.

Forcing myself to calm, I try to count them, but there are so many smudges that I can only estimate about forty-three up until my neck. Two hundred and fifteen days, and I can't count my chest and shoulders out of pure fear that I never experienced before. Probably over a year of my life I was in solitary darkness, captured underground, while the Fourth Shinobi War raged above my very head.

I furiously wash the marks away, leaving only slight traces of the black that once was. I would count the days by whenever they would feed me, about once a day, but they most likely didn't come every day, so even my calculated numbers were low. Sickness threats to rise but I push that down by sheer willpower. Kankuro asks if I'm okay from the other side of the door and I shout that I'm fine too quickly for him to believe and then he's in the room, eyebrows lifting in concern.

"She was really worried about you the whole time, that Mizukage," he says softly.

My mouth opens a little, and the shock is too much to overcome. She cared?

"I don't know what you did to her, but she's been a mess, saying she should've known when you were right under her feet. But there's a reason why she couldn't feel you, right?" Kankuro held his gaze steadily. "Your chakra points are severed. I can't feel the tiniest bit of chakra from you."

I grit my teeth hard, clenching my fists. "I can't be Kazekage anymore."

"No, but do you really think we've been without a leader this past year and a half?"

"Year and a half?" I croak, stumbling backwards.

Kankuro watches me sympathetically. "Let's go back outside. Maybe you'll find that Mei-san — you know, the Mizukage — is really helpful."

Nodding numbly, I follow Kankuro out of the bathroom, and Mei finds me instantly, her visible light green eye shiny from the tears that she tries to keep away. I remember when we were at the Summit of the Five Kages and she stood up for me, smiling at me cheerfully after I was forced to kill my own father and saying that she was proud of me for being the strong Kazekage I was.

We talked, then, and I still don't know how we formed such a bond. But she held true to that bond, and now I'm in her arms again, feeling the horrors of that confinement slowly fading away.


	9. For Us

**Be warned that this is Gaara's craziness in the real world. Most of these are after he's already met Naruto,but not this one! And it's the last depressing-ish one. Next is a modern one, then two Tutor drabbles and I'm done 'cause this pairing doesn't seem to be too popular. xD**

**TITLE: **For Us

**GENRE:** Drama, (Angst), (Romance)

**RATING:** T

* * *

><p>Gaara grabbed the grenade pin between his teeth, interrupted by the school teacher's shriek.<p>

"Please, don't!" she cried, lunging forward even though her arms were tied to her sides. The preschool children who were also tied up, herded into a corner in the back of the room, sobbed harder. She brought herself closer to the unknown man, light green eyes begging him not to do it. There wasn't much she could say at this point that she hadn't already.

He released the pin, staring at the woman for a moment before a dangerous grin appeared on his lips. The teacher started shaking. "You have no idea why I am here, do you?" he asked, stretching his arm out to grab the teacher's waist and pull her close enough to whisper into her ear. "_Terumi Mei_."

"Don't hurt Mei-sensei!" an orange-haired girl screamed, glaring angrily at the person holding them hostage.

"Oh?" Gaara raised an eyebrow at the girl, spinning Mei away from himself. She caught herself on a table, turning around in time to see him pull a gun on the girl and shoot a bullet straight through her head.

"Moegi-chan!" Mei shouted, biting her lip when the rest of the children's chorus of screams became even louder.

"Shut up!" the red-haired man yelled, waving the gun at the children. A couple went silent immediately while the others whimpered, unable to keep their emotions in check. Satisfied, Gaara turned to the woman who now had silent tears running down her cheeks. He stepped towards her, hurt by her flinch when he wiped her tears away.

"Mei… They took your life away," he murmured, closing the small space between them while Mei's thigh hit against the desk and she couldn't back up any further. Her legs shook, threatening to give out, but somehow they didn't.

"You had so much potential, so much to _do_ in life, and yet they shunned you because of your intelligence," Gaara went on, playing with a strand of her hair. She had gone stiff, not even daring to blink. His green eyes had no pupils, something she could only notice being so close to her, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Why is a woman like you a preschool teacher?" he demanded, suddenly yanking on her hair furiously.

Tears welled in Mei's eyes and she croaked, "I love these children. It was my choice!"

"A choice between this or prostituting your body to higher-class businessmen because your father wants the approval of _society_, hm?" he hissed, eyes narrowing.

Mei went back to biting her lip, hard, not trusting herself to speak.

Sighing in frustration, Gaara let go and walked to the front of the room so that he could face everyone. "No matter," he said loudly for all the children to hear as well. "I will end this, and validate my existence – by finding meaning in you!"

"What the hell are you talking about!" Mei stared at him, shocked, as a thin line of blood dripped down her chin. She'd bitten her lip hard enough for it to bleed?

The fury in Gaara was magnified at the sight, and he blew another shot, right into a kid's chest that hadn't even done anything. Shrieks rose in his ears, giving him a headaches, and he commanded them all to stop. They did.

Lifting the grenade to his mouth again, Gaara paused only for a second to look Mei in the eyes and tell her, "This is for you – for me – for us," before he pulled the pin with his teeth and the school building went up in flames.


	10. Business

**Separate from the Tutor ones.**

**TITLE: **Business

**GENRE:** Romance, Drama

**RATING:** K+

* * *

><p>Our parents were involved in similar businesses, with both of us meant to take over our respective companies in the future. He had older siblings, but they'd both proven themselves unworthy of the title. He alone was mentally strong enough, smart enough, and prepared enough.<p>

I felt that I was better than him, _a man_, from the start. I thought that I could take our company to new heights, surpass this man within a month of taking over, and yet that was not the path I was destined to follow.

They decided that their companies would merge.

To make it more official, they thought it would be a good idea to have the two heirs marry. This would create unity among the workers and loyal customers rather than having two co-presidents who might not agree on everything.

Our parents set up our meetings to gradually grow longer each time, so we'd get a chance to know either other over time, not all at once. It was their idea of a gift, but I didn't feel very much like I'd received a gift of any kind. If anything, I just felt more trapped, knowing that next time, we'd spend even more time together.

But I stuck it out, for the sake of our family. I didn't want to disappoint them, not after we'd risen so high. We were once shunned from society, hated outcasts. And now we were merging with another major company. Their fault lied in the "problem children" the current president had fathered—alone, apparently. Together, we'd make up for those downfalls.

So I didn't protest, especially not after having tea with the man for the first time. The _boy_, really.

He never allowed a single bit of real, human emotion to slip into his jade green eyes that had no pupils, outlined with dark circles that were either makeup or the result of sleepless nights. Brick-red hair was shaggy over his forehead, cut a little higher on the left side to reveal a tattoo that was the kanji for _love_.

His long, pale fingers curled around the handle of the teapot, and I immediately snapped into action.

"Please, let me get that," I said politely, rising to my knees to take the pot from him. He let his hand fall back to his side as I poured the tea into his cup and then set it back down. A friendly smile was on my lips as I asked, "How much sugar would you like, Sabaku-san?"

He blinked once at me before plucking two sugar cubes from the jar next to the teapot and placing them in his cup, giving the impression that he didn't need me. Me, a woman. My eyebrow twitched in annoyance, but I sat back on my heels like the nadeshiko I was supposed to be.

Pouring myself some tea as well, I tried to start a conversation. "I prefer sweeter teas, like chamomile," I explained as I took four cubes and plopped them in my tea. "That's why I add so much sugar to green tea."

He took no interest in this topic, sitting motionless except for his blinking eyes.

Miffed, I went ahead and drank the entire cup of scalding tea at once. When I set it down, I was gasping a little, my mouth on fire and eyes watering. I felt too stupid ask for something cold, but suddenly he left the room and I sighed. He was probably tired of me already, going to call off the marriage arrangement.

A couple minutes later, he returned with a glass of ice and set it down in front of me without a word.

I stared at him in amazement before composing myself and smiling. "Thank you."

Maybe he wasn't as cold as I initially thought.

* * *

><p>One afternoon, after Mei had met with Gaara a number of times and had been surprised to find that she was growing quite fond of him, he showed up at her door in a tuxedo. At first, she was a little too shocked to say anything. The only time she saw him was during arranged meetings, usually over dinner or a company party, and during those, they didn't see each other much anyway.<p>

To him have so boldly come up to her house on his own…

"Temari put me up to this," was the first thing he said, flatly, as if he was between not caring and annoyed.

Mei's face fell, but she quickly recovered and slapped the usual smile on. "That's fine, Gaara. Would you like to come in?" Over the meetings, she'd picked up on his distaste for the title "Sabaku-san" and gradually found something that worked without him cringing oh-so-subtly. Gaara was a simple name, with no honorifics, that he took to with a sort of relief when she first used it.

"No, I think Temari would like us to take a… walk," he told her with a very faint sigh.

It had come to her attention, again over these meetings, that Gaara was most decidedly _not_ a romantic. His sister Temari had apparently schooled him in the right things to say and do and for a while, Mei didn't mind. With Temari's advice, Gaara was almost a complete gentleman, if not for the way he so infuriatingly acted like his emotions had gone extinct.

"That sounds delightful," Mei assured him, noticing the slight change in the way he held himself. He'd relaxed his shoulders the tiniest bit, something Mei only saw because she'd been watching him so closely for _some_ sign that there was a human being inside of him.

And when she saw those sides, there was no way she couldn't fall for this lonely boy a little more each time.

Their age difference had been a sore spot for her in the beginning, but he made up for it in other areas. He didn't seem like it at first, what with his pale, fragile-looking exterior, but he was really somewhat aggressive. The first company meeting the two of them appeared at together, a rude guest whispered an insult behind Mei's back. While she didn't hear what the man said, Gaara was immediately on his feet, whipped around to grab the man's collar.

Gaara's green eyes were extraordinarily intimidating, so it was no surprise to Mei when the man started stuttering an apology and stumbled as he ran when Gaara released his collar. Then he took Mei by the wrist and led her away, to the balcony, where he didn't say anything until the end of the party.

Another thing that astonished Mei was when he told her, not asked her, to remove the knot of hair she worn on top of her head. It felt like a criticism at first, but when she reluctantly took it down and straightened out the mess, Gaara nodded approvingly.

"I can see over your head now," he'd said. Their height had been leveled. His true motives were revealed, and she forgave him.

After a while, his boyish face had started to give way to hardened lines along his jaw, and his baby fat disappeared over the course of a few months. She knew nothing about for weeks, until she accidentally arrived early to his home one day to discover him in their private gym room, working out. The image of him pressing nearly three hundred and fifty pounds over his head left an impression and she couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day, though Gaara had asked her to please forget what she'd seen.

Once she found her light autumn jacket, Mei stepped out of the house and locked the door behind her. No one else was home, and she wondered if Temari had timed this perfectly for a moment when no one could disturb the two of them.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

Gaara stared at her for a moment, holding her in place with the intensity in his jade green eyes. The lack of pupils had him look inhuman, and Mei was frozen. He leaned forward, slipping under her long auburn hair and gripping her head, pulling it towards him as he tilted his head down a little and placed a kiss on her lips. It wasn't soft and loving, but it wasn't harsh and needy, either.

When he released her, Mei let out the breath of shock she'd been holding throughout the kiss, and Gaara's eyes seemed somehow harder.

"Another day," he said unexpectedly, and he turned and left.

* * *

><p>It was all a joke to me at first, something to humor my father in his dying days.<p>

Something I had to put up with in order to finally rise to the top where I deserved to be, where people would be forced to look up to me and show their complete devotion to me no matter what. I would become an important person, my existence completely validated by their unconditional love. Whatever I needed to do to get there, I would put up with.

Until Naruto, I didn't think twice about anyone else's emotions. At least, I was thankful that Mei appeared before me after I'd already encountered the boy who changed me. We'd had nearly the same childhood with different results, and these days, I aspired to be like him. No one would've thought my death threats would ever go away or my obvious hatred for all of mankind that was now veiled and hidden within myself.

And yet they returned to me in the form of a woman with long, auburn hair, sweeping bangs that covered one of her light green eyes, and nearly every time I saw her, in that blue dress that hung off her shoulders, leaving only so much to imagination.

That was my first thought, of course. _She's pretty_, but nothing more. A pretty face, a pretty body, it means nothing when there is no personality behind it.

She proved me wrong in so many ways. The first time she burned her mouth on tea, drinking it furiously because of me, and how she smiled when I brought her ice. I didn't really care about her at the time. My father would've had a fit if she'd gone home and complained about how awful our first date was.

Day by day, Temari suddenly took interest in my state of affairs, giving me advice on how to take care of a lady. There were times when of course I messed up, and most days I did nothing but sit in silence with flat stares and minimal contact because _I just didn't know_ what to do. She made it easy for me to show a little emotion and be a little kinder with those constant smiles that only Mei could perform so flawlessly.

When someone commented on how much better she looked without her top-knot, something I'd requested her to undo because I wanted to be able to rest my head on her chin like Temari told me I should do, I didn't know if I should feel jealous or angry. Either way, I would've reacted the same, so I didn't decide on which I felt before acting, and then I spent the rest of the evening realizing that they came hand in hand.

Emotions I'd never felt sprung up all over the place when I was around Mei and it was getting harder to keep them in check.

Then one day, Temari ordered me to go propose to Mei properly. It may be an arranged marriage, but that didn't mean that I had to make it feel like one. So I let her dress me up and drive me over when no one else was home—how she knew that, I didn't bother to ask.

I was glad that Temari drove off before I could ring the doorbell, because the moments that followed made me feel as shattered as a man could feel.

This _was_ an arranged marriage. There was no reason to make it something it was not. And while I had obviously grown feelings for this woman, I knew there was no way she could feel the same. Her smiles were always there, from the beginning. They were not special. They were not for me. When she came back with her jacket, I kissed her.

I'd never kissed anyone ever before, so it wasn't one that would even leave an impression on her. I made a false promise, but I'd never come back to her again. She deserved a real, true marriage.

I left.

* * *

><p><strong>Six months later.<strong>

"Hey, are you Terumi?" a man's voice asked. The auburn-haired woman turned slowly, blinking her eye. It was the turning point between autumn and winter and both of them were wearing jackets, hats, and gloves, hers blue while his were dark purple.

He took her reaction as a yes, but he wanted to make sure. "Terumi Mei?"

"Who wants to know?" she demanded, her tone clashing with the sweet smile on her face.

"Sa—Kan—Um, I'm Ken," he stuttered, holding a hand to his head. "Sorry, I'm incredibly hungover."

Mei narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I'm not stupid," she told him, crossing her arms. They were in the middle of a park where snow started to fall gently. People stepped around the two, clearly curious but not wanting to gawk. "You were about to say Sabaku Kankuro. I've seen pictures, and I've talked to your sister. What does he want?"

"Maybe it's what I want," Kankuro retorted, his pride hurt at being found out so easily.

She cocked an eyebrow. "No, you don't want anything, or you wouldn't have had to ask my name. _What does he want?_" Mei repeated, a little sharper, stepping towards him.

Kankuro nearly started to walk back, surprisingly intimidated, but he held his ground even as she came within a foot of him. He wasn't _much_ taller than his brother so he could just barely see over the top-knot that Mei had reintroduced to her appearance.

"It's for his sake that I'm here," he explained, keeping his wits about him.

He refused to let Mei push him into a corner, but she did exactly that, moving herself so close to Kankuro that he could smell the caramel candy she had in her mouth. Mei lifted herself onto her toe and all but pressed her chest against Kankuro, just so that he could see the full power of the fury in her visible eye.

"You tell _Gaara_," she spat, using the name he'd most preferred almost mockingly, "that I don't want anything from him after he left me like that. I genuinely _liked_ him, and what do I get? A parting kiss and a million excuses after that! It may have been an arranged marriage, but it never felt like one to me! You tell _Gaara_ that I was hurt and betrayed, and I don't want a _man_ to help me gain leverage in this sick world of business. Okay?"

Mei ended her rant with a cheerful smile and impulsively kissed Kankuro on the corner of his lips. She smirked dangerously. "How did that man manage to father two good-looking boys like you?" she asked with a wink.

His mouth hung open as she swiftly spun around and walked off, but he relaxed a little when the person he was counting on to be there appeared from behind a tree. Kankuro only hoped that his hadn't misunderstood the kiss and left before he could find out.

Gaara, on the other hand, hoped that his burning fury reached his brother as the coward fled the scene. He then focused his attention on Mei whose eye widened in shock seeing him so suddenly. She tried to step past him, her visible eye already closing down her emotions, but Gaara blocked her path every time she tried.

Giving up with a growl, Mei turned around and started the walk the other way, only to have her scarf yank her back, hard, into Gaara's arms.

"Please," Gaara whispered into her ear.

Mei stopped her struggling, but he didn't let go yet.

"Hear me out," he begged, letting only a tiny trickle of emotion into his voice that was enough to let Mei understand that he was serious. She pushed away from him harshly but didn't start to run. Taking this as a good sign and not taking it lightly, Gaara tried to explain.

"I didn't want you to be caught in something that meant nothing."

"It meant everything to me," she hissed, already thinking of her next escape route.

His eyes softened so much that Mei was taken aback. Gaara stayed silent, praying that his actions would speak louder than words.

"No, Gaara," Mei croaked, her forehead creasing. "It was too much… I can't give you another chance."

"I wanted you to be with someone you loved," he told her, wiping a snowflake from her cheek. Her eyes closed at the feel of his hand on her skin. "My father died a week ago."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning into his touch.

"I've spent all this time gathering the courage to tell you that…" Gaara lost track of his thoughts. He'd planned this, using Temari's suggestions to make this speech into one that would make her swoon and he'd have to catch her. Then, a kiss would be the only thing to wake her. But he threw all caution to the wind and clenched his free hand into a fist.

"That I love you," he said simply, and at this, Mei's eyes flew open.

Another kiss was upon her for the first time in months. When Gaara pulled away, he felt something wet on his cheeks, and he looked at Mei to see that she was crying. Not knowing what to do, he just wiped the tears away like he had the snowflake, and he held her while she cried.

Through hiccups and gasps, Mei fought to tell him, "I love you too!" And even though her face was a mess, she smiled at him, and Gaara's lips very faintly curled upwards as well.


	11. Tutor 6

**TITLE:** Tutor 6

**GENRE:** Romance, (Drama)

**RATING:** K+

* * *

><p>"Say it, Gaara."<p>

"There is no point."

"There is a point. It's French. Say it."

"I will have no use for this phrase."

"That's not why I'm asking you to say it!"

"Then why?"

"_It's French_. Your pronunciation is atrocious. So say it."

Gaara stared at her. This time, he'd asked for their lesson to be in the garden. Usually Mei found these places relaxing. Behind a row of rose bushes, sitting on stone benches, in front of a koi pond, with the scent of flowers easing her mind. Yet Gaara managed to irritate her _once again_ like she'd never known anyone could do, except maybe Ao, her family friend.

No, Gaara definitely took the cake today. Maybe his male pride was acting up again.

Sighing, Mei leaned forward and firmly said, "_Je t'aime._"

Even seated on a stone bench diagonal from her, Mei could see the way his eyebrow twitched. She sat back, keeping her mouth shut to see what that was about.

As much as she hated silence, Mei had learned that Gaara hated it even more and would eventually break it on his own. Normally he'd just walk out, if he could, but she was blocking his only chance of an exit. She tried to match his impassive stare, amazingly getting him to look away first.

"Je…" he started clumsily.

"_Je_," Mei corrected gently, smiling when he faced her again.

Gaara let out a slow breath and mumbled, "Je time."

"Not quite." She got up and sat herself down on the free space of Gaara's bench. He leaned away a little, but she didn't mind it. Another habit of his was avoiding contact at all costs, and she respected it most of the time, only "forgetting" about his preference if she wanted to get a rise out of him.

"Listen closely. _Je t'aime_," she annunciated slowly, clearly—she was sure he'd get it right if he just imitated her exactly.

"_Je t'aime_, there, are we done?" Gaara snapped speedily, and the fluency of his French shocked Mei enough that she could only nod dumbly. He stood so fast that and passed in front of her that she had time to blink just once before he was already at the space between the rose bushes, ready to leave.

For some reason, he found himself stopping, spinning around to glare at his tutor.

"I will never have any use for that phrase," he said heatedly. "Why the hell did you make me say it? You just want to hear someone tell you that they love you, even if it is a pathetic lie?"

"Gaara!" Mei gasped, getting to her feet swiftly. This insult had been the most personal yet. Her light green eyes burned with fury, but she forced a sweet smile to her lips. "Please take that back, or I'll kill you."

"Why, because I am right?" he retorted, biting back a snarl. He shook his head as if she had disappointed him somehow. "Don't _ever_ make me say that again. Love means nothing." Gaara walked away so quickly that he was almost running.

Mei was rooted to the spot, again unable to forget those jade green eyes without pupils. This time, not because they were so emotionless, but because of the deep hurt she'd seen in them.

What was love to Gaara?


	12. Tutor 7

**Last one! Thanks for reading and reviewing. :)**

**TITLE:** Tutor 7

**GENRE:** Romance, (Fluff)

**RATING:** K

* * *

><p>Mei found out through a phone call that Gaara was comatose.<p>

She had no recollection of frantically driving to the hospital within minutes.

She didn't remember demanding to see him and rushing into the room to hold his hand and sit bedside.

She couldn't recall if Temari and Kankuro were ever there because she was so focused on Gaara that her eyes hardly ever left him. Even comatose, his eyes were still lined with black. This made her smile just the slightest bit, but it was a sad smile because she might not ever see the jade green eyes underneath again.

The doctor came in at some point, explaining that if she chose to talk to him, he would probably hear. The doctor went on to say that the coma was due to some sort of shock at being kidnapped. He said that they took something from him, but no diagnosis had been made so he was just in a coma and no one knew anything more. Not when he'd wake up or _if_ he'd wake up.

Mei didn't react, staring at Gaara's face and willing him to wake up. The kanji for love was hidden on his forehead, so she reached up to brush his hair aside, revealing it. She was alone in the room with him and decided to listen to the doctor's words.

"I understand that love might be a touchy subject for you," she started quietly, a smile on her lips in case he could see her and she didn't want to look unhappy, "and it is for me, too. Do you know why I made you say it?" Mei breathed in and out slowly. "Because… you will need it. When the time comes, you'll find someone who you love. And imagine the look on her face when you tell her in French, the language of love!"

Her smile widened a little. "It's a beautiful language." It slipped away. "I wish I could have taught you more…"

Scooting the chair closer, she leaned her cheek on Gaara's hand, clutched in her own. "You feel warm, like a normal human being, and you just look asleep…" she murmured. "But you're not here, are you, Gaara? I don't know what they took from you, but please come back. I miss you. _Tu me manques._"

She shook her head, taking her cheek off his hand and lying it back down on the bed, but she kept her hand with his. "I don't know why," Mei sighed. "I don't know why a person like me would miss a damn high school boy. You don't even appreciate my teaching." She sniffed as if hurt. "Despite that… Not having you around makes my day feel off. The last time you left me, I got drunk. I'm stupid, so please come back soon."

Mei stayed like that for a while longer, thinking. What was it she felt for this boy, anyway? Affection, as she would feel for a younger brother? Probably… But then there were the moment when he gave her not-so-cold looks, when he made her smile, and when he actually accepted her that gave her butterflies like a little brother couldn't. It was strange. And yet, she knew what it meant.

"_Je t'aime_, Gaara…"

His hand squeezed back. "_Je…_"

Eyes going wide, Mei jumped out of her seat to check Gaara's face, but it didn't show that he'd spoken at all. Glancing at all the monitors around him, she could see that nothing was wrong. But she'd definitely felt it. Definitely heard it.

With her heart still racing, she pulled the seat back next to the bed and sat down again. It was definitely there. His life. And he would return to her. Mei would just have to be patient. She smiled.


End file.
